


en colère

by mvrcredi



Series: french!richie AUs [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Confessions, First Kiss, French Characters, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, The Clubhouse (IT), french!richie, like 15/16?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvrcredi/pseuds/mvrcredi
Summary: Richie speaks French when he's mad. This is also, coincidentally, how the Losers find out it's his first language.It also, coincidentally, makes for a great segue into talking about feelings.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Series: french!richie AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572565
Comments: 12
Kudos: 245





	en colère

It was like any other day at the clubhouse. 

Eddie and Richie occupied the hammock, Ben and Beverly chatted away as Ben picked up small things to fix up. Stan and Bill informed Mike of any gossip happening at school. It was business as usual.

It was business as usual—except something was off. This wasn’t quite known to everyone yet, but something was off.

As everyone continued in their own sub-circles, Eddie was patting Richie’s face with his foot as the latter read his comic. Richie swatted him away the first few times, a bit forcefully the last time before he says, in a sharp, very un-Richie-like way, _“Stop it.”_

Eddie hesitates, his smile dropping in the slightest. He scrunches his nose. “Jeez, ‘Chee. No need to be so grumpy about it.”

“I’m not being grumpy,” Richie grumbles, pointedly straightening out his comic as if it were a newspaper. He pushes his glasses back up his nose, as they had fallen a bit to the side with Eddie’s teasing.

Eddie decides to give it a rest for some time, but being the immature, impulsive teenager he was, about five minutes later he figures it’s safe to pat Richie on the cheek one more time. He even goes as far to attempt taking Richie’s glasses off, but to no avail as before Eddie can hook his toe under the frames, Richie throws his comic at Eddie’s chest and shoots up from the hammock. The rest of the Losers’ heads turn.

“Stop it!” Richie screams. “Just _stop it,_ okay? _Arrête de me toucher! Personne ici a des limites! Quand je te dis d’arrêter, devine quoi? Putain j’suis sérieux! Merde! Seulement parce que j’suis le Trashmouth c’est drôle, hein? Se moquer de moi tous que vous voulez, pourquoi pas? J’ai des mauvais jours quelquefois aussi,_ okay? _Je t’ai besoin d’arrêter,_ please! Just _once! Est-ce trop à demander?”_

Richie takes a deep breath before he sits himself back down in the hammock, rather ungracefully. He sighs, dropping his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m sorry.”

Eddie blinks. “I would forgive you, except I have no idea what you just said.”

Richie tenses, then reappears from behind his hands. He looks to Eddie. The rest of the Losers are silent.

“What?”

“I have no idea what you said,” Eddie repeats. “Was that… _French?”_

Richie’s face blooms a bright red in seconds. He curls in on himself, barely noticeably. “Yeah, I—yes. It’s actually, um. It’s my first language, so I just find it easier to, well. Convey anger, or any passionate emotion, really. ’S faster.”

“Since when is French your first language, Richie?” Bev asks from across the clubhouse. Richie takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“Since ever?” He shrugs. “I only really use it at home. That’s why I don’t have an accent or anything. ‘Cause of school, y’know?”

Stan furrows his brows and scans the room, gauging the reaction of each of the Losers. “Wait, you guys _didn’t_ know?”

Heads all turn to Stanley. Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You _knew?”_

Stan shrugs. “Well yeah, duh. I’ve known him the longest. I’m just surprised _you_ didn’t know, Eddie.”

“Why me?” Eddie questions, expression nothing but a mix of confusion and cluelessness. Stanley, however, doesn’t elaborate, leaving Eddie to wonder as each of the Losers slowly transitioned back to their previous activities. _So that’s been settled,_ Eddie thinks. He gives himself a moment to process, but comes to no conclusion. He simply shrugs to himself and gets comfortable in the hammock once more.

It takes a second before Eddie registers that Richie is staring at him, eyes wide and uncertain.

“Richie?” Eddie asks, quiet. Hesitant. Just as uncertain.

“Can you… can we go outside?” Richie squeaks. He makes no move to get up, though, despite his request.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, sure, definitely, let’s—guys, we’re gonna, uh. We’re gonna head outside for a bit. We’ll be back.”

They both scramble out from the hammock after Eddie announces this to the rest of the group. They are more casual in climbing up the ladder and stepping away from the hatch and further into the forest. For privacy reasons, of course. Obviously.

“Is… is there something wrong, ‘Chee?”

Richie worries his bottom lip, eyes darting around to look at anything but Eddie. He was most definitely nervous—though Eddie wouldn’t know where to begin guessing as to why. Eddie searches Richie’s face, but his efforts are fruitless.

“Rich?”

“Eds, I—I know why Stan said… that,” Richie admits quietly. He kicks at some mulch in the ground, still refusing even a glance at Eddie. Eddie doesn’t quite have it in him to tell Richie off for the nickname. In fact, he really doesn’t have the heart for any response—nothing he could say would do justice to the statement. 

Instead, he opts to let Richie continue on his own.

Then, finally, Richie looks at Eddie. His eyes seem… scared.

“Eddie, I…” Richie breathes in shakily. “I like you, Eddie. Like, I _like-_ like you. Maybe even love. I have for awhile. And Stan only said that ‘cause he knows we’re close, and normally I tell you _everything._ Plus, you’re at my house a lot so I really don’t know how I managed to hide the fact that I— _mmph!”_

Richie’s rant is cut off by Eddie pressing his lips to the former’s. For a moment, Richie seems unsure of what to do with his hands, which makes Eddie think this was a bad idea—until Richie eventually pulls him closer and kisses back. By all means, it isn’t the greatest kiss; teeth clash and the angle is a bit awkward, but it’s better than nothing.

When they pull away for air, they’re both smiling, and Richie looks infinitely better than he had a few moments ago. Eddie links their pinkies together, leaning into Richie.

“I li—love you too, ‘Chee,” Eddie whispers.

Richie laughs softly. “Good. I might have to yell at you more if you didn’t.”

Eddie smiles into Richie’s chest. “I don’t think I would mind, if you did. You make French sound great.”

Richie snorts. “You say that like French isn’t already a great language.”

“Maybe. You do make it sound nice, though.”

“Well, in that case,” Richie sighs happily into Eddie’s hair. _“Merci.”_

**Author's Note:**

> more french!richie because it's my favourite concept lol
> 
> (and btw, his big monologue is basically him setting boundaries because it seems no one respects them, and when he says stop he means it. that's the gist, but you can translate if you rly want :p)
> 
> if you want to see more, please let me know (let me know if you have any plot ideas/prompts as well) !
> 
> comments, kudos, and feedback are all appreciated ! <3


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